


Ouroboros

by DodgerBear



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 09:05:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18340505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DodgerBear/pseuds/DodgerBear
Summary: Hermione gets sassy with Harry’s love life and no fucks are given.





	Ouroboros

 

Harry’s desk was a source of constant irritation to Hermione. After spending her formative years at Hogwarts with Harry and Ron it was a very close call as to who was the messiest. But now Ron worked in the Department of Magical Games and Sports at the other end of the Ministry building it meant Hermione didn’t have to deal with his particular brand of untidiness. Harry, however, was a very different story. Their roles in the Ministry were very different but involved a lot of professional interaction, so when Harry said he’d left various reports on his desk for Hermione to pick up it often meant she was looking for a needle in a haystack. 

“Harry...you need to sort this out...ask for an assistant...you’re Harry Potter, nobody would refuse you...about time you used your fame for something worthwhile...honestly!” She ranted under her breath as she sorted through the many papers on his desk. As Head Auror that was a lot of paperwork. Just when she was about to lose her temper completely and incendio the whole lot, her attention was drawn to an invoice buried under piles and piles of parchment that could be the document to change the law about illegally performing magic at a Muggle carnival or the paperwork that would start the next great Wizarding War. With Harry’s filing system there was no way to tell. But this invoice in particular caught her eye and her attention. 

_Ouroboros Apothecary_. 

Hermione picked it up and turned it over in her hands. The invoice was for a simple dreamless sleep potion, something even Harry could probably brew himself if he could recall his Hogwarts days. She knew he still suffered from nightmares every now and then, even though twelve years had passed since the final battle. Usually they happened when he was tired or anxious. They would consist of Harry being trapped in a huge maze where he could hear the voices of his loved ones screaming for his help but no amount of running around could reveal where they were in the maze. Harry wasn’t ashamed of them and talked to Hermione about them quite openly over the years. They’d all been through some form of therapy since they left Hogwarts. It was inevitable. And while Harry had come a long way since those days, the nightmares clung to him. But why was Harry going to see Draco Malfoy for his nightmare relief?

 

Draco Malfoy became something of a recluse at the end of the war. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t to blame for some of the atrocities that happened to his classmates, if only in the sense that he knew about plans and didn’t speak up. Then there was the vanishing cabinet. There was no way around that one. When the war was over, and the side of the Light declared victorious, Draco expected to be sent to share an adjoining cell wall in Azkaban with his his father. Lucius would likely never see the light of day again and that was just fine with Draco. The man had brought nothing but misery upon his family for as long as Draco could remember. Then Voldemort rose again and what had previously been categorised as bad decisions were now downright catastrophic. He allowed that maniac to live in his home, terrorise his only child and threaten Draco with the painful death of his mother if he didn’t do his bidding. Narcissa Malfoy was the only person in the world Draco could say he loved. He didn’t even know if he truly understood what love was, but the instinct to protect his mother was so strong it gave Draco an idea of where love started. When Voldemort, and by extension Lucius, threatened the woman that birthed and raised him, Draco would do whatever it took to protect her. He didn’t expect that to be considered by the Ministry when punishment was being doled out but his mother was alive and that was more than enough for Draco. He’d rot in Azkaban for ten lifetimes if he had to and he told as much to Harry Potter when he returned his wand. Harry just smiled easily and shrugged before reassuring him that it would all work out fine in the end. Draco hadn’t known what he meant by that but when he stood before the Wizengamot to answer for his crimes Harry stood up to testify for him. Draco could’ve dropped down dead with shock when he was let off with essentially a warning and a probation period where he had to reveal his travel plans in advance and not be seen consorting with anyone with even a shred of doubt about their character. It was a mystery but one he was going to accept with humble gratitude. After a few years of travelling around the world and learning his trade he returned to London and opened up a tiny shop in a quiet part of Diagon Alley that sold his homemade potions. He lived a quiet, solitary life and it suited him perfectly. Now, only a few short weeks from his thirtieth birthday, Draco was settled. That was a damn sight better off than he thought he’d be when he was on the battlefield, wishing he was dead. 

 

Harry removed his outer work robes and tossed them on the back of a chair in his living room. His white dress shirt had been crisp that morning when he put it on but now the weight of the day had crumpled and creased it. He wandered into his kitchen to look for whatever leftovers he could pass off as dinner but jumped when he saw Hermione at his stove, brewing something that smelled faintly familiar. 

“Miss Granger. Are you lost?” He smiled sloppily at his best friend. 

Hermione flashed him a bright grin. “Hi! No, I was just brewing you a batch of dreamless sleep.”

Harry’s smile fell from his face. “What? Why?”

Hermione carried on stirring methodically. “I saw you’ve been buying it from an apothecary when I was in your office earlier. No point paying for it when I can brew it for you.”

“Uhm...well...” 

Hermione let the cauldron rest on a low flame and turned to her friend, arms folded across her chest. “Unless there’s another reason why you would shop at an apothecary for a piss easy potion that even you could brew. Unless...it’s that  _particular_ apothecary perhaps.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, choosing to ignore the slight against his Potions skills and concentrating on what Hermione wasn’t saying. “Spit it out, whatever you’re getting at.”

“Draco Malfoy is what I’m getting at.” Hermione retorted quickly, refusing to back away from the heated eye contact. 

“You’re not making any sense.”

“And neither are you! What’s going on Harry? Why are you still seeking him out?”

“I’m not!” Harry argued half-heartedly. “I just...it’s not that simple...”

Hermione sighed heavily. “Talk to me Harry. What’s going on? I thought this was over and done with a long time ago.”

Harry hopped up on the kitchen counter beside the window and rubbed his eyes, fatigue settling over him and making him weary. “It is. It _was_. But I bumped into him again a few weeks ago and it was...different. And still the same. And I’m a bit...lost.”

Hermione moved to stand in front of Harry and rested her hands on his forearms. 

“Oh Harry. He broke your heart. Why are you even considering going back there again?”

“He didn’t break my heart. Well he _did_ but that wasn’t exactly his fault. I got too involved when I knew it was a bad idea. He didn’t promise me anything. Quite the opposite in fact. If anything, I broke my own heart.” Harry argued gently and Hermione could agree with him to a certain extent, but not entirely. Not when she remembered vividly the devastation she had been left to deal with when Draco did a moonlight flit to Rio de Janeiro a decade earlier. 

“So what now? Are you and him...you know?”

“Use your words, Hermione.” Harry dared to smirk. 

“Having sex. Again.” She replied tightly. 

Harry tipped his head back and laughed. “No. We’re not. And we weren't back then either.”

“You weren’t?”

Harry shook his head, messy strands falling into his eyes. “Nope. It was...complicated. We danced around each other. We tried to make something out of a new thing that neither of us knew how to handle. We were trying to start afresh with each other in a new world when we didn’t know how to be ourselves in that world first. It was never going to end well.”

“I didn’t realise. I thought it was more...I don’t know...physical?” Hermione exhaled shallowly. 

“We kissed. A lot. We talked more than anything else. About dreams and ideals and a life we both wanted. But we had no clue how to make that life a reality.”

“Oh Harry.”

“You said that already.”

“I’ll keep saying it until you stop breaking a little piece of my heart every time you speak.” Her voice trembled with emotion. 

Harry leaned down and enveloped her in an all encompassing hug. “I’m okay Hermione.”

“I’m going to make a pot of tea and you can tell me as much as you want to share. Start from the beginning if you like. I knew you two were a thing but I never knew any details.” She replied and moved to fill up the kettle at the sink. Watching the most accomplished witch Harry had ever met making a pot of tea the Muggle way seemed almost hysterical but he left her to do whatever made her feel better while he went to change out of his work clothes. 

 

Hermione listened as her usually reserved friend told her more about his personal life that she ever expected him to share. He talked about how standing up for Draco after the war led to them meeting up, at first to talk about their experiences but then feeling a pull of something else. Something more. Something that led to Harry pouncing on Draco one night as he was about to leave the quiet Muggle bar they had taken to meeting in after work. He shoved the blond against the harsh brickwork of the pub alley and snogged him senseless for a full fifteen minutes. It would’ve been longer but last orders was called and the pub started to empty out into the streets. But that was the start. The start of what, well neither could be sure. But they continued their clandestine meetings for several weeks more, just two boys not even twenty years old and dealing with the fall out of a series of events set in motion before either were even born. They leaned on each other. They were close. Or so Harry thought. His assumption was shattered when he went to Draco’s tiny hovel of a flat and found him packing his bags, a ticket for an international portkey on the table for Harry to see. 

Hermione was outraged. “He was just going to leave? Without a word?”

“He said he was going to find me. To say goodbye. But I don’t know.” Harry smiled sadly. 

“But why?”

“He said it was too much, too soon. He wasn’t ready to feel something for anyone else. Especially me. He said I was going to do big, wonderful things with my life and being with him would tarnish me.”

“What a crock of shit.” Hermione spat. 

Harry chuckled softly. “Is it? You’ve seen how the Ministry used to treat the children of Death Eaters. I think he was onto something.”

Hermione’s mouth fell open. “But that’s just awful!”

“It’s an awful fact.” Harry agreed. 

“So he just left? To protect himself?”

“To protect me. At least, that’s what he said. I don’t know. It’s taken a long time for me to build up to speak to him again.”

“Why did he come back?” Hermione asked. 

Harry shrugged. “Not sure. He travelled the whole of South America, Asia and Eastern Europe while he was training as a Potion Master. Once he was qualified he came home to work. I think that was always his plan. I think he just assumed I would’ve moved on, married Gin and had a house full of kids by now. I think he thought he was safe.”

Hermione chuckled. “Little did he know...”

Harry arched a brow at his friend. “What?”

“That you wouldn’t know how to date a lamppost let alone another human being; and Ginny is completely in love with another wizard and you never stood a chance.”

“Well when you put it like that...you’re a horrible person Hermione Granger.” Harry laughed. 

“I know. I’m sorry but it’s true. I always wondered why you didn’t seem to bother with dating. It’s not like the Wizarding world gives two shits that you prefer blokes. Now I suppose it makes sense. You’d already had your head turned.”

Harry sighed and sipped some tea from the chipped china cup in his hand. “Nobody ever really made me feel the way he did.”

“And now? He’s back? What does that mean for you?” Hermione asked gently. 

Harry sighed moodily. “Fuck knows. I ran into him outside Flourish & Blotts about a month ago. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. I invited him for a coffee and he filled me in on his travels. I updated him on my stellar rise through the ranks of the Auror programme...you know how I love to blow my own trumpet...”

“You have so many trumpet players you could start up an orchestra.” Hermione rolled her pretty eyes. 

Harry smirked. “Hmm. And well...it was all very civil...”

“And superficial?”

“Exactly. We were all up to speed within an hour and all I could think about was stalling for time so I could just _look_ at him for longer.”

“Oh Harry.”

“Sweet Merlin, if you say ‘Oh Harry’ one more time I’m going to tell Ron exactly who it was that charmed his bacon sandwiches into ham salads every day for a month so he’d lose weight!”

Hermione scowled. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me, witch.”

They fell into bursts of happy laughter and finished their first cup of tea before Hermione poured them another. 

“Then what?” She prodded gently. 

“Then we went our separate ways and I’ve been going to him for dreamless sleep potions every week since just to keep talking to him. He knows, of course, that I do it to see him and not because I was such a lousy student that I couldn’t brew a potion that I learned as an underage wizard. But he keeps up the charade and so do I.”

Hermione stared at Harry for a moment as she tried to read his feelings on the matter. He grew uncomfortable under her gaze and squirmed in his seat. “What?”

“What do you mean, what?”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m trying to work you out.”

“Good fucking luck.” Harry snorted. 

“Harry, this is the opportunity you’ve waited a decade for. Why aren’t you taking it?”

Harry placed his cup down on the table and rose to his feet, pacing around the room. “Because it doesn’t _feel_ like an opportunity. It feels like a test. Like I have to say and do all the right things in the right order so I don’t spook him and send him to another far corner of the world for another ten years. I just missed him so much Hermione.”

“I know. So you have to tell him.”

“I can’t. What if I scare him off? I don’t want to lose him again.”

Hermione went to speak but Harry pointed at her. 

“The next words out of your mouth better not be ‘oh Harry’ or I’ll firecall Ron right now.”

She grinned broadly. “I was going to say that at least you’d know how he feels. And if it’s not the same as you then you can start to move on. It’ll hurt but it’s the right thing to do. You’re about to turn thirty in a couple of months. You should start that phase of your life knowing where you stand with Draco.”

“Bloody hell Hermione. I never took you for one of those hippy drippy types. Honestly. You think you know somebody.” Harry teased. 

“Yes well, I could say the same about you. All this time I thought you were shit at chatting blokes up but it turns out you’ve been half in love with a pale white ferret for the best part of your adult life.” Hermione huffed loudly. 

“I’m not in love with him!” Harry shot back. 

“I said half in love.”

“Whatever.”

“Please Harry. Talk to him. Be honest with him.”

Harry gave a non-committal sigh and forced Hermione to change the subject. 

 

He lasted three whole days. It would have been less, if he was totally honest, but a case at work forced him to pop over to France for a couple of days at the shortest of notice. But now he was home and on four days of leave and spending the better part of the first morning of that leave outside Draco’s apothecary. It was a slightly nondescript building tucked between a bakery and a fortune teller on a painfully quiet street off the main alley. The sign above the door simply stated the name of the shop - Ouroboros - and the logo of a snake eating its own tail. 

“Come on in Potter. You’re scaring away all my customers.” Draco appeared in the doorway to his shop and smiled softly. 

Harry continued to gaze at the shop sign. “Why Ouroboros?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Why did you name your shop Ouroboros?”

Draco frowned. “Potter, come inside or don’t. I’ve not got all day to stand around here.”

He turned on his heel and went inside, leaving Harry to trail after him. When they were inside the shop Harry’s eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. 

“Tell me...”

“It represents many things to many people.”

“What does it represent to _you_?”

Draco busied himself arranged glass bottles of various shapes and sizes on the shelf. “I think of it as representing a state of one. The snake is one continuous circle, feeds on itself and relies only upon itself to survive.”

Harry grinned cheerfully. “That’s quite deep.”

“Hmm. Perhaps I should’ve gone with a shorter answer.”

“Such as?”

“I like snakes.” Draco shrugged and made Harry chuckle. “What can I help you with? More of your usual?”

Harry shook his hair until it fell in his eyes again. It made him think that he should’ve asked Hermione to cut it when she was invading his personal life earlier in the week. 

“No, Hermione brewed me a batch big enough to last until I’m forty.”

“Oh. So why are you here?” Draco frowned. 

“Can you cut hair?”

The blond was taken by surprise and his mouth fell open. “Can I...what?”

“Cut hair. I need to sort this out.” Harry yanked on the long strands. 

“Harry. At which point did you think I’d had a complete career change?” Draco murmured. 

“I just need some help.” Harry shrugged. 

“Well. They do say that’s the first step.”

“I like the way you have yours.”

Draco self-consciously ran his hand through his neatly trimmed locks of hair. “I’m working.”

“Tonight. Come to my place. You can cut my hair and I’ll make us some dinner. You know where I live.” Harry beamed. 

Draco was about to reply with some excuse or other but Harry was gone, leaving only a feeling in Draco that was oh so familiar. 

 

Harry’s bravado escaped him before he made it to the end of the alley and he burst almost violently to Hermione’s office a little while later. 

“Harry!” She gasped in surprise. “Are you okay?”

“No. No I’m fucking not okay and it’s all your fucking fault.” He ground his teeth as he spoke. 

“Sit down. Tell me what happened.” She began to swish and flick her wand around the room so the door clicked shut and locked, a cup of tea appeared in front of Harry and the floo was shut off. 

“I went to see Draco.” The words came out as a breathy exhale. 

Hermione smiled brightly. “Wonderful! And?”

“I asked him to cut my hair.”

Hermione froze in her seat, her expression moving slowly from a happy smile to twisted confusion. 

“I don’t understand...”

Harry threw his arms up in the air wildly as he tried to articulate. “NEITHER DO I! Why the fuck would I track him down at his place of work and ask him for a hair cut Hermione? What level of madness have I reached without any of my so-called friends warning me?”

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand and tried not to laugh out loud. It was completely futile as Harry saw her twitching smile. 

“It’s not funny Hermione! I told him to come over tonight to cut my hair and I’d make dinner. Then I just left! I bolted out of there so fast he probably thought I apparated!”

It was too much for Hermione and she burst into fits of giggles. 

“Oh Harry!” She squeaked. 

“Right. That’s it. Ron is about to solve The Great Bacon Mystery...” Harry snapped. 

Hermione shook her head. “Oh pipe down Potter. Do you really think Ron doesn’t know that was me? Who else apart from me and you cares about him enough to hassle him about his diet? Let’s get back to the real issue here. Draco is coming to your house tonight. You need to be ready.”

“Ready for what? I have no idea what I’m doing.” Harry wailed. 

“You need to tidy up the house for a start. Then you need to prepare a simple meal for you both. Not too much garlic. And remember peppers make you burp.” She reeled off. 

“Are you for real?”

“Yes! And you need to do some tidying up of yourself. You know. Down there.”

“OH MY GOD!”

“Well when was the last time you did any kind of manscaping?

“Manscaping? Who _are_ you?” Harry was utterly exasperated. 

“Nobody wants to be caught up in the moment and then realise they’ve got a jungle going on down there. Neat and tidy. That’s how all things should be. And it makes your bits look bigger.”

“My bits?” Harry repeated, horrified. “Fucking hell Hermione. You’re on a roll today. I do NOT have a jungle down there. It’s perfectly...you know what? Nope. Not getting into that with you. Let’s just say I’ve had no complaints. Now, I’m going home to think about what I ever did to deserve this treatment from my best friend!”

Hermione waved him off with hearty enthusiasm as she chuckled to herself. 

“Just think...he might not even turn up!” She called after him when he was almost at the floo. 

The whole of Hermione’s department of high brow legal professionals heard the Head Auror respond with an emphatic “fuck off!”

 

Harry stood in his bathroom and gazed at naked body in the full length mirror. He was a little over six feet tall with lean, defined muscles from years of Quidditch and Auror training. His chest was smooth with only a small patch of dark hair across his pectoral muscles and stomach was flat with a dark happy trail leading to what he now recognised as a slightly untidy bush of pubic hair. 

“Fucking Hermione.” He grumbled and aimed his wand at his...other wand. With a tentative swish some hair fell away and landed on the tiled floor. A few more and Harry was staring at his tidied up crotch in dismay. It turned out Hermione was absolutely correct. It _did_ look bigger. 

“Fucking Hermione.” He repeated and started up the shower, ready to wash away some of the tension he was feeling. 

 

At 7pm there was a polite knock on the front door and Harry waited a moment before he opened it so as not to look like he’d been pacing the hallway for the last hour. Draco stood on the top step looking as beautiful as Harry knew he would. He’d changed out of his work attire in favour of perfectly fitted Muggle jeans, a plain white button down shirt and a black bomber jacket. 

“Hello Harry.” He greeted neutrally. 

“Draco. You came.” Harry smiled nervously. 

“You didn’t wait around for me to make my excuses.”

“You were going to make excuses?”

“Probably. Are we planning to do your hairdressing on your front doorstep?”

Harry smiled again at his sharp words, spoken without a hint of heat in them. 

“Of course not. That would be ridiculous. Come on in.”

Draco followed him through to the living room and Harry took his jacket to hang in the closet. 

“Drink?”

“Sure.” Draco agreed amiably. “Do you have a beer?”

“Beer? Like Muggle stuff?” Harry was surprised. 

“Yes. I got a taste for it when I was living in Asia.”

“Oh. Of course. Come through to the kitchen and we can eat. Everything is ready. I made a chicken curry...” He trailed off when he realised Draco may not know much about Muggle foods. 

“I love curry. Another thing I picked up in Asia.”

Harry sighed in relief and led Draco to the small table in the kitchen that was set for two people. He used his wand to summon beers and the food to the table. The fell into silence when they started to eat. Draco took a bite and his eyes fell closed. 

“Mmm. Delicious.” He murmured when he finished chewing. “You can cook.”

“I did most of the cooking when I lived with my family. I did most of everything really.”

“Oh?”

Harry shrugged. “A lifetime ago. Anyway, how’s the shop?”

Draco smiled slightly. “Fine. I work in the basement most of the time. I hired an apprentice to man the shop during the day. Stops any awkward conversations when customers realise they are buying their potions from a Malfoy.”

“Do you get much hassle these days?” Harry approached it head on. 

This time Draco shrugged. “Not as much. Usually around the anniversary of the final battle. That sometimes brings out the worst in people. But I can live with it.”

The silence as they ate was comfortable. So it was only right that Harry said something to risk that comfort. 

“Are you, uhm, seeing anyone?”

Draco’s brows raised high on his forehead. “Going straight into it? Right. Well, no. I’m not.”

“No?” Harry couldn’t hide the hopeful lilt in his voice. 

Draco smiled sadly and shook his head. “No Harry.”

Harry smiled back. “I missed you. When you left. I wish you’d stayed. Or I wish I’d known I didn’t have unlimited time.”

“If wishes were fishes we’d all swim in riches.” Draco looked down at his food and speared a small chunk of chicken. 

Harry barked a laugh. “That sounds like something Hermione would say. That and, if ifs and buts were berries and nuts we’d all be squirrels.”

Draco frowned around his smile. “She made that one up, surely.”

“I think so. I think she’s tricked us all these years into thinking she’s so bright when really she just makes it up as she goes along.” Harry grinned. 

Draco snorted his laugh. “You really think that?” 

Harry let his mind wander to her revelation that his penis would look bigger if he tidied up his pubic hair.  

“Fuck no. She’s right about everything.”

They finished their meal and took their beers to the living room where Harry played some music in the background. 

“That was a lovely meal. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Are you going to tell me why I’m here now?”

Harry was taken by surprise at Draco’s gentle request. He considered reminding him about the hair cut but he wasn’t going to insult Draco’s intelligence like that. 

“I wanted to see you. Spend time with you.”

Draco nodded along. “And?”

“And...I hoped it would validate some things for me.”

Draco sipped his beer and waited for Harry to continue. It took a while but he did eventually speak again. 

“I’ve spent years wondering about you. Where you were. If you were happy. If you’d found someone to share your life with. Because I haven’t. I barely even looked. Nobody came close to you. I didn’t ever feel like me when I was with other people. I’m sorry if that’s a lot of pressure...”

Draco placed his bottle down on the table and wrung his hands together. “Nobody came close to you either. But Harry...you shouldn’t hold back your life for me.”

“I didn’t. Not intentionally. But it happened anyway and now you’re back and I just need to know if I can stop accidentally sabotaging my own happiness and be with you instead.”

Draco’s eyes widened comically at the outpouring of words from Harry’s mouth. “You want to be with me?”

Harry stared at Draco like he was speaking a foreign language. “Of course I do. You think I’d bring out the chicken curry big guns for just anyone? I _know_ how good that meal tastes.”

Draco burst into laughter. “It is pretty good.”

“I don’t know the right things to say here Draco. I just want to give it a try.” Harry admitted. 

Draco absorbed that before he spoke. 

“Have you thought about it? How it will change things? How people will treat you. And us. The last thing I want is for you to suffer for my past. You deserve more.”

Harry flashed a crooked smile. “I will handle anything that comes my way.”

“And your friends?”

“My friends are my friends for a reason. They know me and trust me to make my own decisions. And Hermione already knows everything. I got some interesting hints and tips from her.”

“What about when people at work find out? What about when they want you to become Minister?” 

Harry’s eyes went wide. “I’m not going to become Minister!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you will!”

Harry wildly shook his hair, quickly being reminded that he really needed a hair cut. “No I won’t! I don’t want that job! I’d hate every second of it!”

Draco tilted his head. “Seriously?”

Harry grinned. “Very much so. Hermione is way ahead of me for that one. It’s far more her thing.”

Draco was trying to think of more logic to throw at Harry but failing to think fast enough. 

“Draco?”

“Hmm?”

“Come to bed with me.”

 

The morning light woke Draco when the sun rose the following morning. It took a moment to adjust but he quickly established he was in Harry’s bed, naked, with the Gryffindor wrapped around his body. The night before had been a revelation. Harry wanted him. Still. After all those years. And this time he wouldn’t be put off by Draco’s fears and concerns. Then the question of compatibility came up when they were stripped naked, physically and emotionally. It needn’t have been a concern to either man as they touched and explored the whole night through without overstepping any lines. Draco found his natural preference for topping wasn’t as strong as he previously believed and Harry discovered that bottoming for someone was the most amazing thing in the world when they meant something to you. 

“Morning.” Harry croaked sleepily. “Sleep okay?”

“Yes. Perfectly. But then you did wear me out.”

“Hmm.”

Draco felt the pressing need to relieve himself but he was warm and comfortable in Harry’s bed. He stayed where he was for as long as possible but the need grew too strong so he had to get up. 

“Stay for breakfast?” Harry kissed Draco’s shoulder. 

“Yes.” Draco smiled serenely. 

“Stay forever?”

Draco tipped his head back and laughed. “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe a little.”

“I need to pee.”

“Answer my question.”

“Harry...”

“Answer!”

“Fine! Okay! I’ll stay until you tell me to leave. Can I pee now?”

Harry released him and watched as Draco wandered out of the room. He lay back on his bed and stared at his ceiling, trying to think of a time when he’d want Draco to leave and concluding very quickly that forever didn’t have an end date. 

 

Hermione was in Harry’s office when he strolled in two hours later than usual. 

“Oof you look rough.” She grinned cheekily. 

“Honestly woman! What do I have to do to shut you up? Arrest you?”

“On what charges?”

“Crimes against my sanity?”

“Not a real thing but nice try. How was dinner?”

“Good. Very good.”

“And the sex?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Better than dinner.”

Hermione clapped excitedly. “Woo!”

“Just what I need, a sex cheerleader.”

“Did you talk? Was it just dinner and sex or...?”

Harry smiled shyly. “We talked. He told me his fears, I put his mind at rest.”

“So you’re a couple now then?” She pressed. 

“Yep.”

“Fantastic. I’m so happy for you both.”

“Thank you.” Harry said with sincerity. 

Hermione sat back in the chair and gazed at her friend. With his messy hair sticking up at all angles, dark smudges under tired eyes and clothes that needed a good ironing he resembled something that should worry her. But the sparkle of happiness in his eyes was the light in the darkness that he’d been missing for a long time. She got to her feet and pulled Harry into a tight hug. 

“I love you Harry.”

“Love you too.”

She let him go and moved to the door. “I’ll ask Ron for an extra ticket to the Canons game next weekend. At least you’ll have the baying crowd to drown out his screams of horror when you introduce him to your boyfriend.”

Harry glared at her as she turned to leave. “I’ll think about it.”

“Oh Harry.” Her voice floated down the corridor as she made her way out of the department. 

The scores of Aurors working in the open plan office outside Harry’s door heard their Head Auror hollering after his best friend, who also happened to be the highest legal counsel in the entire Ministry. 

“ _Fuck off_!”

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
